Getting a jump on resolutions

Why is it that every year, it is only us — the adults — who bother making resolutions? Clearly there is a much simpler way to make our lives saner and sweeter: Give the resolutions to the kids.

Imagine all the cigarettes and Scotch we could easily forswear if only our kids kept even a handful of these vows!

— When entering an elevator pungent with a stranger’s perfume, I will not exclaim, “P.U.!” and hold my nose for the duration of the ride.

— I will make every effort to put down my electronic device, at least when bathing.

— After I take a snack from the fridge, I will not perch on the bottom shelf of said fridge to eat it.

— I will bring no talking toys to the table. But if I do, I will not insist they be given their own place setting and dessert.

— When asked to try a new food, I will sample at least enough to cover one taste bud before making loud gagging noises and spitting into my napkin.

— Throughout the meal I will eat with all due speed, neither resorting to mouse bites nor consuming substantial items like bananas or burgers in one single, unclosable mouthful.

— I will not kick my doctor anywhere in the bellybutton-to-knee zone, no matter where he/she attempts to shine a light.

— Nor will I physically assault the person cutting my hair, clipping my nails or trying to get a teaspoon of cough syrup down my throat.

— I will place nothing valuable, breakable, or breathing in the microwave. If I do, I will warn my parents before they put in leftovers.

— Once I watch my favorite scene in a show, I will not immediately watch it another 16 times, no matter how moving the SpongeBob/Krabby Patty dialogue.

— When I have finished eating all my cereal, I will not turn my still-milky bowl upside down to prove it.

— Should someone as ancient as my parents insist on saying hello to me, I will not scurry behind my parent’s leg in terror.

— When spotting a person of remarkable girth, I will exclaim neither, “Boy, are they fat!” nor, “They must eat a lot of food!”

— My coat will never lie in a heap two inches from where I walked in.

— If, for reasons of extreme fatigue, my mother or father decides to skip one tiny element of my bedtime routine — the tummy tickling, the kissing of the stuffed bear, the turning off the light then turning it on again then off again to confuse local monsters, etc., I will not insist that he/she start the whole thing from the top, under pain of nonstop screaming.

— I will accept the fact that homework, teeth brushing, neck washing, vegetables and visiting the relatives are nonnegotiable.

— I will not whine.

— I will not screech.

— I will not spill.

— I will not sing the Kars-4-Kids jingle to the exclusion of all other songs.

— I will not grab my sibling’s favorite toy from his/her clutches and fling it on the floor as if it has cooties.

— I will remain incredibly cute and lovable for another 18 years. Or at least 18 minutes.

Lenore Skenazy is the author of “Free-Range Kids: How to Raise Safe, Self-Reliant Children (Without Going Nuts with Worry)” and “Who’s the Blonde That Married What’s-His-Name? The Ultimate Tip-of-the-Tongue Test of Everything You Know You Know — But Can’t Remember Right Now.” She is a syndicated columnist and appears in The Logan Daily News on a weekly basis.